


Miniature Bridges

by Gravity_Sun



Series: JayDick Week June 2016 [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Denial, Denial of Feelings, Emotional Constipation, First Love, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Masturbation, Roof Sex, off screen character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 18:18:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7233487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gravity_Sun/pseuds/Gravity_Sun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 3: First Time Realizing They’re In Love</p>
<p>Or</p>
<p>It's just sex, until it isn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Miniature Bridges

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt - Day 3: First Time Realizing They’re In Love: This can be taken a lot of different ways, for example it could mostly be in Jason or Dick’s POV, and their thoughts on each other. It can be the two of them together, they could be on a date, they could have stumbled into each other in a “love-at-first-sight” way. Fluff, feels, angst, this Day will revolve around the two of them having romantic thoughts about each other, or having a romantic interaction.
> 
> Title from, and inspired by, Marty McConnell's Miniature Bridges, Your Mouth

They started slowly.

Well, no.

Not slowly. Not slowly at all.

They collided into each other, like galaxies. Atoms mashing together, merging. Energy and heat and friction generated. Combining into one until there is nothing left between them but skin. Until they are a mass of heat and energy. Passion and desire. Until the world fades away around them and they are lost in each other.

Jason thinks this may be his favorite view in the world. Standing on the top of Wayne Towers, beer in one hand, city skyline before him, his cock sliding firmly into Dick’s ass, his other hand busy alternating between jerking Dick off and pushing his hand over his mouth to keep him to something resembling quiet.

It had started in a rush. Dick, too much pent up energy and Jason, a bit too drunk on cheap whiskey and there’s a dare, a non-verbal challenge and Dick’s legs are around Jason’s hips and Jay is kissing, stroking,  _ biting  _ every inch of skin he can get his hands on.

The second time, Dick climbs in his lap after a particularly rough mission and rides him until his knees buckle and his eyes roll back.

The third time, they fuck in a broom closet at the Manor, Jason never being so thankful as he is now for carrying around small packets of lube.

And from then on, it was non-stop. A desperate chase. No terms were given. No rules. Just take what you want, what you  _ need  _ and get out. Leave it behind you until the world crashes down on you more and you need to get away. To lose yourself. To fuck something until someone  _ screams _ . You. Them. It doesn’t matter.

This was an easy dance to Jason, a habit. A path he’d walked many times before. Hurt. Find someone. Fuck the hurt away. Leave. Repeat. For Dick, this was new territory and Jason knew it. Dick was all about  _ love _ . About relationships and security and stability. He wants more than Jay can give him and Jason knows that. Knows that one day Dick will realize he’s not enough and will leave but until then, he thrusts deeper and  _ grinds  _ into him and Dick’s orgasm echos through the night.

 

X

 

He wonders if he’s always known it. In some way. If it was always a little truth he’d kept secreted away in the back of his mind. If it was when he’d first caught Dick in the showers, soaping his hair and singing some awful 80s rock song and got so hard so quick he felt dizzy. If he’d known it, if it was there during all the nights where he’d lie with his hand under the covers, fist shoved in his mouth, biting his knuckles to keep quiet. When he’d stroke himself to mental images that always morphed into Dick. His smile. The long lines of his body. The way he’d ruffle his hair, hold his shoulder and his hand would  _ linger  _ and Jay could smell his cologne. If he realized it after he was stroking himself to the brink of madness. Coming so hard his eyes rolled and his entire body trembled.

‘When did you first realize you loved him?’

‘When did I not?’

 

X

 

He read a book once that said that love is like falling asleep; slowly and then suddenly all at once.

He disagreed. Because in this case, love was like a car crash. Like diving into a pool. There’s the anticipation, and then the acceptance, as you realize what’s going on, and then you hit the icy water. Love was like that crash, a jolt to your entire body, covering and consuming everything. And then you open your eyes and find yourself floating, in darkness and uncertainty, trying to kick towards the surface.

Dick wasn’t used to this. He didn’t  _ do  _ this. Sex to him was a display of  _ love _ . Of affection. Of... not this. It was new to him, a foreign fruit on his tongue. Not  _ bad _ . Sweet. Desirable even. But almost frightening, the more he chewed, the deeper he sunk.

‘It’s  _ just  _ sex’ he tells himself. Repeats it like a mantra.  _ Just _ sex. Doesn’t mean anything. Forces himself to mouth the words over and over when he looks at Jay’s sleeping form, hulking body wrapped around a pillow, wanting nothing more than to stay next to him, but knowing that Jason would expect him to be gone in the morning. When he remembers the  _ one  _ time he did stay, and how  _ uncomfortable _ Jason had been in the morning. How tense Jay was when he’d woken and Dick was still next to him, curled up, enjoying the warmth that radiated off of him. How he’d stammered and made excuses and left  _ his own apartment _ .

He can do this. It’s just sex. It’s easy. He doesn’t have to worry about hurting Jason. Doesn’t have to worry about the inevitable let down his lovers have, when they realize who he really is, that the happiness and confidence is just a mask, that he loves being a superhero almost more than he loves himself. He won’t have to see that look in Jay’s eyes when the day comes that he realizes they’ve run their course.

_ ‘It’s just sex’ _ , he repeats, when he finds Jay on his fire escape, dripping wet from the rain and covered in blood, most of it not his.  _ ‘You can do this’ _ he tells himself as he strips Jay’s trembling form, and knows it’s not all from the cold of the rain. Sees the anguish in his eyes. Knows something has happened. He hurt someone or someone hurt him.  _ ‘Just... take care of him’  _ he gets Jason naked, dries him, takes care of his wounds, minor, before finally bringing himself to look at him.

Jason is still trembling, worrying at his lip so much it’s bloody. His fists clenching and unclenching, breath coming unsteadily.

“Shs.” Dick says, as gently as he can manage “Shs. It’s okay.”

Jason shakes his head in disagreement, opens his mouth to speak and Dick kisses him, kisses him as deeply as he could manage.

“I--.” Jason tries to stammer out “I just--.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Dick interrupts him, pushing him to the bed, stripping himself “Nothing else matters right now.”

Jason shuts his eyes as Dick rides him, as gently as he can stand, pressing kisses to every inch of skin he can get, kissing away tears that he’ll pretend are rainwater. Jason shudders when he comes, holding onto Dick like a lifeline.

Dick clung to him.

Wild horses wouldn’t drag him away.

_ ‘Just sex.’ _ He thinks to himself, forcing himself to repeat  _ ‘Just sex.’ _

 

When Dick finally lets himself sleep, he dreams. Vividly. He remembers the first time he met Jason, his ‘Littlewing’. Remembers the small layer of resentment he had at the kid, showing up in his life to adopt his identity, wear  _ his  _ costume. Going by the name his mother gave him. This smart mouthed street rat. Then remembers the pride he felt when he watched Jason in action. Sure he was...  _ violent... _ to say the least. But he was  **passionate** . He cared. Surprisingly gentle. Always looking at Dick with such  _ adoration _ , for reasons he never really understood.

Remembers the small looks Jason would sneak when he thought no one was looking. Remembers the time he let Jason catch him in the shower. How he listened outside his door that  night for the barely imperceptible whimpers as Jason stroked himself.

But, he’d kept it to himself. Buried it down. Pretended it was nothing. Jason was handsome, no denying that, and Dick had eyes. That was it. He told himself. Nothing more.

And then they put him in the ground and the world had stopped.

 

X

 

Jason wakes in the morning and it feels like he’s been run over by a bus. Clawing his way to consciousness is hard, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d swear he’d been drugged. But he knew it was just exhaustion finally catching up to him.

He wakes to a warmth next to him, soft breathing on his shoulder. He’s confused for a moment, then the night filters back to him and when he opens his eyes his breath catches.

_ ‘Dick.’ _

He’s in Dick’s bed, he realizes. It occurs to him how little time he’s actually spent here, given the sheer amount of times they’ve fucked. Their sex is usually more of the rooftop, dirty alleyway, abandoned safe house variety, and he never lets himself indulge in the fantasy that it’s something more. Always leaves, never stays longer than he has to lest he convince himself that he’s something more than a tool for the Golden Boy.

He knows he should leave. Could probably creep out quiet enough that Dick wouldn’t wake, but... he couldn’t take his eyes off of him. He tells himself he’ll only stay a few more moments, a few seconds. But then seconds turn into minutes and when Dick’s hair falls in his eyes, Jason instinctively brushes it back.

Dick stirs. Opens bombay blue eyes. Smiles softly.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Jason blurts, before he can stop himself. “I mean--.”

Dick raises an eyebrow, more amused than anything, and slides forward.

“I should go.” Jason says “Sorry. About last night. I--.”

“Are you okay?” Dick asks, voice thick with sleep

“Yeah.”

“Then that’s all that matters.” He says, rolling onto his back, stretching. “You hungry.”

Yes. As a matter of fact Jason was starving.

“Nah. I should get going. I’ve got a few leads I need to check up on.”

Lie.

Dick glances at the clock.

“At 10am?”

“Yeah.”

Lie.

“Need backup?”

“No. I’ve got it under control.” Jason forces himself to slide out of bed, to not look at Dick as he dresses himself in his still damp clothes, moves to the window “I’ll see you.” He says, climbing out onto the fire escape.

“I have a door.” He hears Dick mutter behind him

 

X

 

Things return to normal after that. He avoids Dick for a few weeks, until Dick surprises him one night on a rooftop, tackling him to the ground and sucking him down so  _ good  _ it makes his eyes water and he comes embarrassingly quickly. This, he knows. He knows his way back to what serves as normalcy for him. Push everything way. Find a good fuck and a good fight. And luckily, Dick was good for both. Bury it down and pretend it’s about the sex. Because the sex was easy. Comfortable. A thing he knew. Because if he let it be about anything else, because if he admitted he wanted Dick to fall in love with him, things would fall apart. So when he climbs into Dick’s bed, he keeps his clothes nearby. So he can pretend that what they do in the dark has no crossover effect, no linger. 

He’s not enough for Dick. He knows this. Knows that the street rat doesn’t get the Golden Boy. Let’s that want out every day but it returns like something dutiful, sliding under his ribs and squeezing at his heart. And he wants Dick to fall in love with him, he does. Like in one of the awful romantic comedies Dick forced him to watch once. Wants him to wake up one day and realize that he loves him and that Jason is  _ enough  _ and that’s crazy. Unhealthy. Wrong.

Foolish.

And it’s almost easy enough to leave it at that. To keep burying it down and plucking the weeds of  _ need  _ that sprout with a heavy hand. Pretend that each morning that he wakes up and watches the sun spread light across Dick’s cheeks that his heart doesn’t  _ ache _ . That he doesn’t linger just a big longer before sneaking out.

  
  


But it’s when everything falls apart, when everything shatters that he just can’t deny it anymore. When they shake in each other’s arms, Jason rocking into Dick, pressing kisses to every inch of skin that he can manage because it’s not okay.  _ They’re _ not okay. Because  _ he died  _ and here you both are, total messes, fucking each other to forget, to pretend.

And Dick is crying. Jason know’s he is. Tries to pretend he’s not until Dick’s entire body is shaking and Jay is crying too. Because Dick, ever the Golden Boy, is blaming himself, and Jason isn’t good enough to convince him otherwise. Struggles for the words to say. The right way to tell him that he’s not responsible for the world. That he doesn’t have to save everyone. That it’s not his fault. That it’s going to be okay. But all that comes out is:

“God, I love you.”

Everything is still for what feels like days. Jay takes the time to stare at the shock on Dick’s face. To trace the tear tracks, count each of his eyelashes, watch Dick stare at him, wide eyed. When his mouth opens, Jason prepares for the worst. The rejection. The laugh off. The words that remind him that he’s just a street rat good for a fuck. Or worse, the pity. But, all that comes out is:

“I love you, too.”


End file.
